Detroit Rock City
by Rocket-Strife
Summary: Chyna, HHH, Kane, Hurricane Helms and Billy attend the final Kiss concert in Detroit. Hunter's lack of enthusiasm, Hurricane's abysmal face paint and Billy's feather boa set them up for some terrible mishaps. (Work in progress -- Second chapter up.)
1. Default Chapter

Title: Detroit Rock City  
Ownership Disclaimer: The Characters depicted here are property of WWE and Titan Sports, and I'll put 'em back when I've finished playing with them.  
Rating: PG13 for naughty language and drug references. (Rating Most likely to go up in further chapters.)  
Summary: Chyna, Hunter, Hurricane Helms, Kane and Billy attend the Final Kiss concert in Detroit. Weird shit happens.   
Feedback: Review or email at redsonja316@hotmail.com  
Archive: Sure. Just let me know where, ya dig?  
  
***  
  
The evening air was cool and crisp as thousands of people stood outside the gates of the arena. A backstage crewman eased the truck, containing the bands instruments, into the parking lot, causing a throng of fans to run excitedly as to perhaps grab a glance of a bass or kick drum. The Ninth Wonder seethed as an overly excited teenager dropped his coke on her as he dashed towards the truck.  
  
"Is it really truly worth it," She questioned herself, wiping her arm onto 'Hurricane' Shane Helms. She stared at his makeup. "Well, perhaps it is to see your face painting skills. May I inform you that you in NO way even vaguely resemble Ace Freely?"  
  
Hurricane's lip quibbled. "Quiet you. You don't even like Kiss. I found a Culture Club tape in your dashboard compartment on the way here!"  
  
"It was his." Chyna pointed at Billy, trying to shift the blame. Kane whistled.  
  
"That's totally funny!" He tried to look serious. "Coz it's true."  
  
Billy puffed up his chest and tried to look impressive. "Despite the fact that Chyna's obviously lying, they have some catchy tunes, mister!" He bit into his Hershey bar. "Even a freak like you would like them!"  
  
"Hey, what are you insinuating?!" Kane demanded. "Freaks are cool! You're not cool!"  
  
"I think using the word 'cool' to describe any one of you is stretching it a bit far," Chyna stopped the fight in its tracks. "Need I inform them Kane, of your Dungeon and Dragons obsession?"  
  
Kane was suddenly very quiet, and picking the sleeve of his oversized tee-shirt portraying Gene Simmons, he sat down and looked depressed. He continued sitting that way even when HHH arrived back to where the congregation was standing, carrying cups of bud light.  
  
"Chy," Hunter muttered, handing her a cup of beer. "Understand that I'm here only for you. And furthermore," His voice dropped to a whisper. "I think that taking me to the Final Kiss concert with the freaks and the fruit is a lousy 'I-just-dropped-my-wife-like-yesterday's-trash' date."  
  
"So get over it," Chyna muttered in retort, downing the cup in five seconds flat. "You wanted to have a date tonight. They wanted me to come see Kiss. I fulfilled both my obligations; and I'd rather be sitting at home with a TV dinner watching Nash Bridges, in all honesty."  
  
"That hurts." Billy pouted. "Although, maybe bringing Helms was a mistake. Fashion police, anyone?"  
  
"Like you can talk," Hurricane retorted. "You're wearing a feather boa, and if I'm not mistaken, is that Cher depicted on the back of your shorts?" He stood next to Kane and struck a classic superhero pose. "I'm a kickass, if not freak like, representation of the Kiss Army."  
  
Hunter, who looked suicidal, rolled his eyes and handed Billy and Shane their standard issue cardboard bud cups. He then stared down at Kane. "What's up with the big red half of our positively freaky tag champions?"  
  
"The freak is a geek." Billy filled in, sipping his beer. "Who is wearing a tee shirt he picked up for $5.95 at the merchandise stand. I mean, talk about tacky! It is totally worse than your ring attire!"  
  
"Is he crazy?" Shane whispered to the Ninth Wonder. She looked bored as Kane rose to his feet and dumped the cup of beer onto Billy's blindingly blonde hair.  
  
"Obviously so."  
  
"Don't. Knock. The. Shirt." Kane growled in warning. He then thrust a rigid finger into Billy's DX tank top. "And at least mine isn't asking for sexual favors!"  
  
"What's wrong with 'suck it'?" Billy demanded, shaking droplets of liquid from his hair. "Do you recall how popular that was? It didn't seem like such a perverse request then, did it?!"  
  
"Yes it did!" Kane countered.  
  
"I always thought you were all dyslexic..." Shane offered. "And were trying to say 'It sucks'. I was never sure what 'it' was, though." He looked at Chyna hopefully. "Chy, you were in DX. What was it that sucked so hardcore?"  
  
"Apart from having to hang out with Billy, Road Dogg, X-Pac and Hunter?" She paused. "Don't ask me. I never even wore the crappy shirts! I would've rather walked out to the ring naked than wear one."  
  
"You used to practically do that anyway," Billy hissed cattily. "And these heels are just so five minutes ago!"  
"You take that back!" Chyna growled.  
  
"He's right you know." Hunter said. Chyna managed a genuine girlish pout.  
  
"Hunter?"  
  
"What?" Hunter demanded, stamping his foot and causing his jeans to hug his ass tightly. "So I didn't like your stilettos? So what?!"  
  
"Eddie liked them!" Chyna squealed.  
  
"Yeah," Added Kane. "And didn't you send a cheap engagement ring soaring into his nipple?"  
  
"I'd prefer it if you didn't bring up your ex fiancée," Hunter whined out. "You're meant to be on a date with me!"  
  
"You shouldn't knock my heels." Chyna snapped in retort. "Say that you like them!"  
  
"Chyna..." Hunter sighed.  
  
"Doooo it!"  
  
"Fine, I like your heels."  
  
"Good." Chyna said. "That being said, go and get us some more beer."  
  
"Are you actually intending to be sober by the time they play 'Beth'?" Hurricane questioned. Chyna shrugged.  
  
"I'll probably be out of it by the time they hammer out 'Detroit Rock City'. Which will no doubt be the first song, considering that's where we are."  
  
"Plus, that's when they'll start passing joints." Kane added. He grinned. "This new mask is so totally kick ass!"  
  
"I don't approve of your plans for an evening of stoning." Chyna said flatly.   
  
"That's just because you want whatever's coming along!"  
  
"I WILL wrestle you for it, Kane." Chyna said, her jaw set determinedly. "I cannot sit through a Kiss concert sober." She turned to Billy. "That being said, have you got the tickets, Mr. Ass-probe?"  
  
"Don't call me that!" Billy shrieked.  
  
"Tickets?" Hunter questioned.  
  
"Yes Hunter," Chyna replied in a flat tone, snatching the tickets away from Billy and dislodging his yellow boa as she did so. "Tickets. To get into the concert. You know, these things."  
  
"Ah," Said Hunter, looking tense.  
  
"Don't tell me," Chyna growled. "You didn't buy a ticket."  
  
"I thought it was pay at the door," Hunter griped, pulling out his check book. Chyna rolled her eyes.  
  
"One...no. Two...even if it was, they're not gonna except your lousy checks." She stared at the book in Hunter's hand, noting that they were 'Ninth Wonder' checks. "And while it's mighty cool of you to use checks with my image on them, one cannot forget that due to your marriage with Stephanie McMahon Helmsley Angle...whoever the hell else she's married...your checks bounce more than Trish on a trampoline."  
  
"They so do not!" Hunter shouted, looking hurt.  
  
"You paid for attempted murder with one and it bounced!" Chyna insinuated. "Need I remind you!"  
  
Kane looked amused. "She's right. That was too funny. I mean, did you write that down in your memo or something? 'Have Rikishi run down Austin with a rental car and pay with shoddy check'?"  
  
"If you didn't freak me out I'd hit you!" Hunter squealed.  
  
"Yeah, I know, I've heard it before..." Kane shrugged. "I'm evil. I'm the game. But I'm not suicidal. Blah dee blah dee blah..." He suddenly puffed out his chest, making him look bigger and menacing than before, if at all possible. "Get me another beer, Helmsley." He growled, sounding much like his older brother the Undertaker. Hunter sensed that a powerbomb was imminent.  
  
"That goes for me too," Said Hurricane, waving his empty cup. Hunter looked pale, and scrunching up his best 'I-just-sucked-a-lemon-and-am-pulling-this-expression-to-show-you-who-sour-it-was' face, he stomped towards the concession stands. "There better be a ticket here for me when I get back!" Was his parting warning.  
  
"He's swell," Sighed Chyna. "Billy, you come with me. We'll go and overwhelm some scalpers with the power of your personality." She stared at him blankly. "And lose the boa!"  
  
"Bitch!" Billy retorted, flipping her the bird.  
There was no avoiding the well aimed slap. Billy stomped after Chyna, waving his arms about his head in a quasi hissy fit. Helms looked at Kane.  
  
"Wanna go see if we can catch a look at Peter Chris' kick drum?"  
  
"Cool!" Kane replied, giving a big thumbs up. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chyna and Billy forced their way through a small throng of prepubescent Kiss Army recruits, all who sniggered at Billy's attire.   
  
"How dare they?" Billy demanded. "Look at what they're wearing! I'm hurt."  
  
"You're also bigger than they are." Chyna muttered.   
  
"You're right, you know." Billy said, looking happier. A small boy in Paul Stanley regalia tried to relieve Billy of his boa, to which he replied with a backhand slap to the back of the head. The kid hit the ground with amazing force, considering his size. "Let's take his ticket, Chy. Hunter's evil, so he'll appreciate that. Plus, that'll save the whole check thing."  
  
"Too true." Chyna agreed. "Billy, relieve the kid of his ticket. Any moral guilt we may feel cancels Hunter's whining for the rest of the evening." The Ninth Wonder of the World milled over thoughtfully towards the merchandise stands as Billy hauled the small child up by his enormous, teased hair.  
  
"Fork over the ticket, kiddo." Billy ordered in a tone of supreme authority. The kid's lip quibbled.  
  
"I don't have my ticket, mister," The child said earnestly. "My big brother is keeping it for me, so I won't lose it. Oh, don't hurt me, please." Billy released his hair with a roll of his eyes. What he was no expecting, however, was the kick to the groin (which had less dexterity than Chyna ever had). He sank to the ground, clutching the front of his crisp, hot pink shorts, as the young Paul Stanley enthusiast proceeded to call over a large gang of toughs. Billy looked up, and made a supreme effort not to cry. The kid's older brother just happened to be none other than the Big Show.   
  
"Yo Billy," Said Show, looking down at the pathetic blond clutching at his crotch. "I didn't know you liked Kiss. I always thought you were more of a Culture Club mark, myself."  
  
"He's a bad man," Little brother quipped.   
  
"He's barely a man at all," Said Show, nudging Billy with his foot. "Now, what did he do to warrant a low blow from my kid brother?"  
  
Chyna sensed unconsciously that their plan might have gone slightly askew. Turning away from her examination of a collection of action figures, she winced as she watched Billy take the chokeslam. Noticing the Paul Stanley lookalike turning his attentions towards where she was standing, she shot like a flash, behind the stand. Damn, it's hard running in these heels. She thought. iPerhaps Hunter is right. Nah, he's never right./i  
  
"Chyna, you say?" She heard the Big Show's voice. iShit!/i She mentally cursed, dropping to her hands and knees and crawling frantically underneath the Merchandise stall. Landing flat on her stomach, she brushed away the community of spider webs that had tangled in her hair, and powered like a commando further into the gloom. Through the tiny crack of light before her, she could see Billy's radiant shorts with the enormous luscious lips beaming at her. It was not the best of visual images.   
  
"She was right here," She heard the kid. "I guess she must've ran."  
  
"And left the fruit to take a pummeling." One of the toughs added. "Some friend."  
  
"Pfft," Chyna muttered to herself. iI need to save myself here buddy. I'd like to see you take a chokeslam in favor of saving Billy's neon ass./i  
  
She heard the footsteps grow fainter, and assuming all was safe, heaved herself out. She groaned in dismay as she noted the amount of filth now encrusted onto her jeans and leather tank top. "Why fucking me?" She muttered, staggering half assed on her stilettos towards where Billy was laid out like a pretzel ."It didn't work huh?"   
  
"No," Billy managed to force from his windpipe. Chyna sighed, and grabbing his arm, hauled him to his feet. His eyes suddenly dropped to the level of Chyna's jeans, then her chest, and finally to her dirt smudged face. "Although, maybe I got the better end of the deal," He cracked his neck. "I may be in a lot of pain, but at least I don't look like a crawled out of the black lagoon."  
  
"You take that back!" Chyna shrieked, pushing Billy and causing him to land directly on his ass for the second time in as many minutes. Her jaw clenched, she stared down at him with a look that could be described only as positively feral.  
  
"I'm sorry," He whimpered. "You look better than me! You look better than me!"  
  
"Good." Chyna grunted in reply, grabbing Billy and storming off towards the merchandise stand. "I need a change of clothes."  
  
The vendor looked frightened as he pushed the Kiss Jersey over the counter. "No charge, miss."  
  
"Good." Chyna grunted again, stomping back towards the Tiger Arena. 


End file.
